Trade All My Tomorrows
by ChristiScribbles
Summary: Isaac was under Stiles' skin in the best, worst, way imaginable and he had never seen any of it coming. Stiles almost fell completely in love with Isaac and had fallen right into the trap in the process. Peter had Stiles right where he wanted him. And, God, there seemed to be no way out. Then his jeep crashed and it started on fire.
1. Chapter 1

Criminal activity was down. It was a good thing, a much deserved Beacon Hills Sheriff's department, has been far from busy. Today was different though, there had been a car accident. A lone jeep had rolled and started on fire. The call came in too late. The teenage boy didn't survive.

Both deputies called to the scene felt as if they had been hit by a train, and wished they actually had. The sheriff's boy; everybody knew that jeep. Crushed metal and scorch marks be damned, they still knew the unsalvageable behemoth.

Stiles Stilinski was no longer living.

The unreal scene had been taped off and blocked with road blocks. The mood was suffocating, quiet and oh so heavy. They had all known Stiles most of his life, the mouthy shit was family.

"Sheriff, you don't need to be here. We- we have it covered," Deputy Pendleton stuttered in an unnatural high voice, unable to meet John Stilinski's eyes.

_**TAMT**_

Isaac was under Stiles' skin in the best, worst, way imaginable and he had never seen any of it coming. Stiles almost fell completely in love with Isaac and had fallen right into the trap in the process. Peter had Stiles right where he wanted him. And, God, there seemed to be no way out. Then his jeep crashed and it started on fire.

After Derek's departure, Stiles found himself without the pack. He realized that his loyalty had unknowingly been to Derek, and Derek wasn't a part of the pack any longer. A weight was lifted from his shoulders and he didn't completely understand it, but he went along with it and it felt great. His renewed, stronger friendship with Scott was once again on the rocks. Without Derek and the pack, it seemed, that the Sciles bromance was doomed. Being honest with himself, they had started growing apart before the whole werewolf debacle. Stiles was okay, and that was what hurt. Scott had been his best friend for as long as he could remember and none of this was bothering him at all. The alpha pack had brought them closer together, but apparently that wasn't enough. Their friendship was an easily severed tie; they were always supposed to go in different directions and it was finally happening. It stung, a lot. All his books and research and other supplies were packed up and waiting for Lydia. Stiles wanted to get back to things he used to enjoy. He dusted off his old drum kit and pulled it down from the attic, remembering how much he used to love it. Things were even starting to get better with his dad. Yeah he still lied, but now it was drinking and homework and curfew. Stiles was a normal teenager, finally, and he was loving it. Until he realized just how lonely he really was. Now, Stiles would give anything to have that loneliness back.

Deucalion and Kali were dead, Derek and Cora were hopefully happier and relaxing somewhere evil-free. Everything and everyone was better. Except Isaac. Derek left and that was too hard for words, he became angrier. And somehow the amazing duo that was Scott and Stiles, was no longer. In fact, Stiles didn't even seem to be pack anymore. Scott became alpha, and all of his free time seemingly disappeared. All too quickly did the lust and loneliness he shared with Allison turn into some semblance of real feelings, but she ended up choosing Scott. Isaac had nobody, not even his abusive dad. Of course when Peter came to him with a proposition, Isaac didn't even care that he'd be hurting somebody he had come to think of as a friend. It was a straight out yes. Isaac was desperate, and naive when it came to Peter. He never stood a chance.

Unbelievably enough, Scott actually took being the alpha seriously. Ethan had submitted and Aiden was well on his way; he only bit one person and it was a case so very similar to Erica. Not even Chris Argent had the heart to say anything against Scott's decision. It hurt that Isaac left the pack, but he was happy that two of his friends found one another. It showed tremendous courage to let such strong members depart from him. Scott was doing okay. Everything was good. Until the day his mom called him home from school.

_**TAMT**_

Stiles was dead. Not really, but nobody knew that. Except Melissa; went to her after the crash and got her to agree to identify the remains. (Lack there of. The Coroner owed Melissa a favor anyway.) He shouldn't have been driving, he was freaking out, he was on the verge of a panic attack. It was an accident, honestly, Stiles didn't mean to crash his jeep. He was running though, he was a coward. Feeling like a jerk, he decided to use the crash to his advantage. It was better that he was dead, it protected everybody he loved. Swaying Melissa wasn't hard. Stiles placed her in his shoes; he explained everything. The whole story, how stupid he was. He let his guard down and never even thought twice about it. How Peter had gotten him exactly where he wanted him.

"Stiles I can't do that, and even if I could, it would destroy your dad. There's a better solution to whatev-" Melissa tried.

"There isn't," Stiles sounded so broken. "Peter's an alpha again," Melissa looked at him with quiet confusion, "he's Isaac's alpha now." He pushed his hand through his hair, voice cracking with unshed tears.

"Oh, Stiles." Melissa broke with Stiles, she understood how bad that was.

Stiles sat down and avoided Melissa's eyes. "It was all a lie. Isaac got close to me because Peter told him to.I fell for it, I let Isaac in and didn't even question it. Everything's a lie and now. Now it's too late, none of it even matters. I don't have any real choices anymore."

He had papers stating he was now Em (Emmett) Gallagher, seventeen years of age, emancipated. Em for his mother, it was her nickname for him. Somehow derived from Genim. Yeah, he'd been planning for awhile. And he hated himself for it.

* * *

I'm so sorry, don't hate me! I didn't actually kill Stiles though and I have no plans too.

I came across this in my Google Drive. I assume that the name came from that one Fall Out Boy song, not positive though, it was titled when I found it.

Should I continue?

Oh this is also posted on AO3 as well, under the penname ScribbledDreams.

Find me on Tumblr: remembering-steena!


	2. Chapter 2

John stepped out of his patrol car, relieved and even a little bit happy, as horrible as that sounded, that things were starting up again. Beacon Hills was never that silent and it had rapidly become worrisome, and boring as all hell.

"Hey, Pendleton, you ca- No." Sheriff Stilinski swallowed, hard, his heart skipped a beat; his eyes landed on the scene before him. His whole world stopped. It couldn't be; John's own life flashed before his eyes as he took in the sight of his son's mangled jeep.

Stiles was so proud of that jeep. From the start he had acted as if he hated the old thing, but the Sheriff knew better. Afterall, Stiles had given it a name. And there was Roscoe, still smouldering with smoke and upside down. Oh God; John Stilinski couldn't breathe.

"We were just about to call you, John," Tara's voice cracked.

"Where is he? Stiles! Stiles, is he already at- _at the hospital_?" The Sheriff yelled, his voice getting caught in his throat. It felt as if all the oxygen had completely disappeared from the atmosphere.

Neither answered his question, both deputy Pendleton and Tara exchanged devastated looks. "John."

"Where is my son?" John asked quietly, pleading with them to give the answer he so desperately needed to hear. Blood rushed to his ears, muffling, blocking all sound. His vision blurred and he became dizzy.

"No! Stiles!" John screamed in agonizing pain, a scream that could only be produced by someone losing a loved one. He wasn't supposed to lose Stiles too. Life was not supposed to be like this.

Tara and Pendleton could physically feel the sheriff's pain. Somehow, it seemed their hearts were beating faster and slower at once. His reaction shook them, and vibrated through them in a frightening way. Tara looked away, her heart shattering all over again, unshed tears falling in thick drops from her heavy eyes. She had taught Stiles how to multiply, she had given advice on Lydia. Stiles was such a presence in her life. She had no words; she didn't know how to comfort her boss and friend of many years. She watched as his world crumbled down on top of him.

"Not my son," John cried, in complete denial and distress, as salty tears met his cracked lips. "Not Stiles. Please God, not my son. Please," he begged with passion, as if he were bartering for his own life. He found himself on his knees, his forehead pressed against the worn asphalt. His right hand was balled into a tight fist which he slammed down onto the asphalt, and down again even harder. John was angry and was using that anger to fuel the little strength he had left, to just keep breathing. It was hard.

He wasn't even sure he wanted to keep breathing.

_**TAMT**_

"Derek's loft?" Melissa questioned, smirking half-heartedly.

She was exhausted. It took her an hour to get a hold of the coroner, and another thirty minutes to get him to agree to help her. When she arrived at the jeep it took ten minutes of crying before she could call 911. It was so unbelievable that Stiles had actually survived the crash, with just a few ugly bruises, he was lucky.

"You told me to go somewhere nobody had a chance of finding me. Nobody's come here in months," Stiles explained emotionlessly.

Melissa inhaled sharply. The dark circles under Stiles' eyes had gotten darker in the fifteen hours since she last saw him. His clothes were wrinkled and his cheeks were stained with tear tracks. He was a wreck and telling him about John and Scott would only make him change his mind, and she knew that couldn't be an option. Peter was far too ruthless, Stiles wasn't safe.

"Okay," she nodded. "I found a good city for you. It's going to take a day or two to find an affordable apartment in a decent enough school district, because you will be going to school Stiles."

"That's not really the most important thing is it?" Stiles scoffed, kind of harshly.

"No, it's not, but that's besides the point. You don't need to be constantly alone to wallow in your thoughts. It's not healthy, and you are too smart to not finish school. _We_ will make the best of this horrible situation, you won't be alone. You're not on your own in this," Melissa explained to him. "You'll be calling me at least once a week. No son of mine is going to leave me uninformed; I'll be worrying too much. Oh," her eyes widened with realization at the words that slipped out of her mouth.

"Son, huh?" Stiles smiled for the first time in, what had to be, weeks. "Thank you," he continued to smile as tears started to flood his eyes. Stiles hugged her, "thank you," he repeated quietly.

"You're welcome," she smiled, hugging him back. She rubbed circles on his back, surprised at Stiles' reaction.

"How is everybody?" he asked, his eyes shifting away from Melissa.

"Stiles," she looked at him pointedly.

"I know. Dumb question; I just," he exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. "What if I never see anybody again? I mean, everybody believes I'm dead. What if I can never come back here?"

"We are going to find a way out. Peter won't get away with this, I promise, everyone will know the truth and welcome you home with open arms. I'll find a way to make everything better, I swear to you Stiles," Melissa reassured him. She carefully wiped away his tears with her thumbs.

"I believe you. How badly is this hurting them, dad and Scott? It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to die; it was just supposed to be the stupid kid that ran away from home. I don't want to cause this much pain," Stiles explained, while stretching his sore arms. His shoulder blades were bruised from the crash.

"It's not going to be easy. Honestly, I'm not sure how things are going to turn out. It's bad, but you need to be safe. And so do they; if you're here and human, they're not safe. Peter's not going to stop. But maybe if he thinks you're dead," Melissa told him, stiffly.

She felt guilty, she didn't want to lie to him, she didn't want to leave out the real reasons Stiles had to play dead, but it was for his own safety. Melissa had done her own research. He couldn't know how easily Peter would back off everyone Stiles loved, if Stiles just submitted. Stiles would end up giving Peter anything he wanted if that's all it took to save everyone. Peter wanted to trick Stiles, he wanted Stiles to think that his loved ones were in danger when they really weren't. By the times Stiles would realize, it'd be too late.

Stiles didn't know the truth of it all. He didn't know how far Peter was planning to go. If a spark was bitten, they wouldn't have an alpha, sparks weren't normal humans. The alpha needed the spark to submit to the bite in order to gain control of the spark. It's why Peter had asked before, it's why he listened when Stiles said no. But Stiles had known that much, it's the other stuff, he hadn't had the chance to read, that was the real danger.

She was guessing that control over Stiles wasn't the only thing Peter wanted, he wanted Stiles' power as well. She didn't want Stiles to know that, he was too vulnerable at the moment.

Stiles was always saving everybody, it was his turn to be saved, and Melissa had every intention on being successful.

**_TAMT_**

She had bid Stiles goodnight and walked two blocks to where she parked her car. Melissa was now currently on her phone talking to Chris Argent.

"You have to understand, even if he can manage to change back, Scott's not going to be what he once was. Stiles was a huge part of Scott's humanity, and that humanity is gone. Stiles was his best friend. He's going to be different, that is if he can even change back again. Some werewolves never manage to come back from a loss like that Melissa. Look at Peter Hale," Chris regrettably explained to her.

It was easy to say that Scott took the news the worst, because he did. He yelled at his mother and started crying. When Melissa tried to comfort him, he pushed her away and wolfed out for the first time since he became alpha. Scott was angry and restrained in the Argent's basement, still wolfed out hours later. His betas had been whimpering since, they were having a hard resisting his call.

Melissa quietly wiped away her tears. "Scott will change back, he has to."


	3. Chapter 3

_"Shut up and take my pants off already. I don't care that I remind you of someone you used to have a thing for," he told the guy, his voice rough. Drunk Stiles was confident._

_"You are so sexy," the guy smiled and did as he was told. "I'm going to make you scream; you'll fall apart begging for more."_

_"Then stop wasting time," Stiles eyed him seductively and stripped off his shirt, "and get to it already"._

_"Alright," the guy smirked confidently. "I've been waiting a long time for this," he pushed Stiles down on the bed and started trailing kisses down his chest._

Stiles opened his eyes, groaning. The sunlight hurt like a bitch and so did the alarm on his crappy prepaid flip phone which was blaring loudly from the pocket of his jeans, wherever they were. Fuck hangovers dude.

And apparently he wasn't even in his own bed, meaning the dream he had wasn't really a dream. Hot faceless guy was real. He groaned louder. He had to get out of there, Stiles didn't want whoever he had slept with to get the wrong idea. The guy wasn't even there, so maybe he was worried for nothing, but Stiles always had the worst luck and didn't want to take that chance.

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He breathed out, and grabbed his glasses. He hated them, but his left contact had torn and it was too much trouble to get new ones. He was not ready for this. This was the day he started the lame New York high school. Was he even going to be able to find the place from wherever the hell he was now? Stiles had told Melissa that he really just wanted to test out and get his GED; he really didn't want to start a new school or try to make new friends. She had told him no, he was too smart and needed to stay in school. Regrettably, he listened.

He threw the covers off of himself, grabbed his phone and turned off the dumb alarm and put on the dark wash skinny jeans (fucking skinny jeans, what was he thinking?) he had worn last night. He couldn't be himself anymore, Stiles Stilinski was supposed to be dead. He was Emmett Gallagher, and Emmett wore skinny jeans and glasses. Emmett wasn't sarcastic, he was just an asshole with a juvie record. No, Stiles wasn't looking forward to today. He had pushed his feet into the high tops he'd stolen from Scott when Jackson-fucking-Whittemore opened the door.

"You have got to be kidding me. Jackson?" Stiles scoffed with mild anger, not registering the bag in Jackson's hand.

"You're not leaving yet are you? We have so much to talk about _Em_," Jackson smiled, that same smug smile that had always made Stiles want to punch him.

"Do you always make a habit of sleeping with drunk humans when you, yourself can't get drunk?" Stiles sneered and Jackson's smile grew wider.

"It was the night after a rough full moon. And well it was you, I saw my chance and took it. I even went along with that whole Emmett thing," Jackson answered, looking unashamed and all too proud of himself. He set the brown paper bag down on the table.

"What?" Stiles's jaw went slack and he blinked a couple of times in disbelief. "Jeezus, Scott was right; I owe him five bucks," he wiped his mouth with his palm.

"Stay, catch up on sleep; my bed's obviously more comfortable than whatever you've been sleeping on," he suggested with a caring tone in his voice. "When you wake up we'll have some breakfast and talk about this whole Emmett thing and why you're even here in New York. _And Scott's not as dim as looks._"

"Even if I wanted to stay here, and I don't, I have school. I promised m- I want more than a GED," Stiles told Jackson, trying and failing to not sound thrown by his niceness.

"Living in New York is expensive. Any place that you can afford Stilinski, probably shouldn't be habitable. You're going to stay here instead. Ah, don't talk, I'm not done. If you want to finish school, that's great, but maybe give it a day, considering you're trying to leave with no shirt on."

Stiles looked down, grabbing his bare chest. "Shit. Didn't even notice that," he hung his head in defeat. He sighed. "Fine, I'll go back to bed. That doesn't mean I'm going to live here."

"Yeah you are, but we'll discuss all that, after you've woken up, over eggs and bacon that I picked up from a place down the street. Shoes off," Jackson smiled, not leaving any room for argument.

"You're enjoying this, don't be thinking that I'm going to sleep with you a second time," he scrunched his face. But he listened and sat down on Jackson's bed and pulled his shoes off with both of his hands. Normally he'd fight more, especially against Jackson, but God, he was so tired.

"We'll see, there'll be more than a second time though," Jackson chuckled, sounding all too determined. Stiles laid down and Jackson pulled the blankets over him. "But we'll do it right the second time around. You won't be wasted and it won't be so close to a full moon."

Stiles scoffed, though a slight smile littered his tired face. "Yeah, no. Not happening."

"Uh huh, we'll see," Jackson told him, so self-assured.

Jackson continued to sit there and he watched as Stiles's eyelids became heavier. He couldn't believe that Stiles was there with him. He had gotten over his stupid little crush and he didn't like that he wasn't sure what he was feeling. Fucking Stiles, what was it about him?

Stiles moved and the blankets rustled. A necklace caught Jackson's eye, some sort of black crystal. He extended his hand and touched it gently. It dawned on him, "this little fucker is what's messing with your scent".

"Shh, Isaac shut up," Stiles murmured while trying to swat Jackson's hand away.

Isaac? Jackson didn't like it.

It had been exactly a week since Stiles crashed his jeep. He had been in New York for four days now. Yeah, Melissa worked fast. The runaway went to New York, how freaking cliche. He didn't question it though. The pendant she placed around his neck had a charm on it to protect Stiles's true scent. Apparently, a fully developed spark has a distinct fragrance that attracted a dangerous kind. The necklace would come off when it was no longer needed. And Stiles had no clue what that meant. God, did he hate being out of the loop. Stiles hugged Melissa goodbye and got on the Greyhound before he could chicken out.

Jackson took his phone from his pocket and dialed a memorized number. "You need to come over. We have to talk. I think there's something going on back in Beacon Hills." He paused to listen. "Yes Derek now, Stiles in town with a new identity and a new scent."

* * *

**Sorry it took so long. I was busy. I'm writing this as I go and I had half the chapter written when I realized it wasn't the best fit. Had to start over. I do hope to have longer chapters as I go along. And as usual, unbeta'd. Sorry for any mistakes, I tried. And as much as I ship Sterek, Stackson is a very close second. Sterek or Stackson, what do you guys think?**


	4. Chapter 4

He heard Derek coming from the stairs. About time longer Derek took, the more crazy theories Jackson came up with. He was practically dizzy with paranoia.

Jackson opened the door with too much force, he could hear that part of the wall crumble, before Derek could even touch the door knob.

"Jackson," Derek started with a grim look, but was cut off.

"Where have you been? When I said we needed to talk, I didn't mean take an hour. Something's got to be going on back in Beacon Hills," Jackson told him a in frazzled manner. It was very unlike him.

"You're right, we do need to talk. I um, Isaac called me as I was grabbing my keys. He was frantic and inconsolable; it took me awhile to get him talking. That's what took me so long. Jackson, he told me that Stiles died a week ago in car accident. You couldn't have seen him, it wasn't him," Derek mumbled, not quite meeting Jackson's eyes.

Jackson paled and just completely stopped, his demeanor changed. "No, Stiles isn't dead," even though he knew his words were true, it sounded too much like denial and disbelief. "Something's going on."

"Isaac's pretty sure he was the last one to see Stiles alive, if you want to talk to him I'll call him back. He'd be able to tell you about Stiles, they were together the last three months; today would've been there anniversary. I'm sure Isaac'll understand, after all, Stiles was the only one unaware of your little crush. Or maybe you just want his number instead?" He treaded lightly, knowing that none it was easy for the other werewolf to hear.

"Shut up Derek. Fuck, I do not want to talk to Isaac about Stiles. He didn't like Isaac anymore than he liked me; if Stiles ended up with him it just proves something was wrong. And Stiles isn't dead anyway," Jackson explained pointedly.

"Jackson, don't do this, " Derek sighed, rubbing his eyes, trying not to be too sympathetic. It would only make Jackson angry.

He looked Derek in the eyes, seemingly emotionless, and continued talking. "Stiles has this cluster of moles on the middle of his back, just to the left a little bit, it kind looks like it forms the letter J."

"I didn't peg you for the mouth-breather peeping Tom type," Derek said half jokingly with a raised eyebrow.

Jackson glared and rolled his eyes at Derek. "That's how I know Stiles isn't dead; he's sleeping in my bed right now, cluster of moles and all. Don't tell me Stiles is dead when he's not. Something is going on and it clearly involves him, so quit looking at me like I'm insane."

Derek looked passed Jackson, wide eyed with shock and vulnerability. "Stiles?" His eyes caught the inhuman claw marks running down Stiles' chest. "Christ," He shook his head, looking to Jackson.

"Wasn't me. He was already like that," Jackson held his hands up.

"What. The. Hell?" Stiles asked angrily through gritted teeth, only looking at Derek for a moment. "You don't have the right to bring someone else into this, it's not your business Jackson."

"I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. Those marks, if you need help-" Jackson started, but was abruptly cut off.

"It won't be from you. I don't like you, I never have and I never will. Mind your own business and just leave me the fuck alone! I don't want your help." He yelled and immediately felt bad; Jackson looked like a kicked puppy.

Stiles went and grabbed his shirt while Derek and Jackson stared at him. "What's going on Stiles?" Derek asked, stepping in front of him.

"Nothing, I'm leaving. You two have fun doing whatever it is that you do," Stiles grimaced. He stopped and just stood there for a moment, so clearly lost in thought. "Melissa knows you're here in New York, doesn't she?" He watched Derek with a heavy stare and a heartbeat that gave away his fear.

"Yeah," he nodded, "she called me about five days ago. Asked me where I was and then told me she had to get going. It was weird, but I didn't think too much about it. I figured it was one of those mom thing's." Derek admitted skeptically.

Stiles sat down, half dazed and staring at the floor. "I'm mad, but it doesn't matter because she's right. She is right. Melissa knew that I shouldn't be alone, and dammit, New York is obvious and I should've seen that one. I just. Shit," he finishes, still not looking at them.

"Everything's going to be okay-" Derek started with an slight amused smile.

"When did you become Mr. Positivity?" Stiles scoffed, cutting him off.

"We seem to make a pretty good team, and I'm guessing that won't be any different this time. We'll figure it out," Derek explained smugly.

Stiles looked at Derek. "Yeah, well, I'm sick of werewolves. I'm over it; I'm done. I don't want to team up or whatever. The two of you," he pointed at Derek and Jackson, "just need to leave me the hell alone. I'm done playing with the supernatural," Stiles huffed stubbornly.

"Why are you acting like this? I don't like it, " Jackson stated bluntly.

"You're not going anywhere Stiles. I can't let you leave in the state you are in," Derek informed him.

Stiles laughed, in that unamused agitated way that annoyed people tend to laugh in. "You're not my alpha, not even an alpha at all. I have see no reason to listen to you anymore."

"I was never your alpha and it's not like you listened to me all that well before," Derek rolled his eyes.

"You can't really be serious. You were my alpha, you had to feel that. And the only times I didn't listen were when your idea's sucked," Stiles explained pointedly.

"What are you talking about? You weren't my pack Stiles," he told him.

"How were you alpha as long as you were?" Stiles asked angrily. "Even crazy-not-all-there-alpha Peter knew what I was, and that was before there were any signs of it. You never thought twice about any of it; I was just Scott's annoying sidekick," he shook his head.

"You need more sleep Stiles, you're not really making much sense. Go lay back down and when you wake-" Jackson began, but was cut off.

"Stop," Stiles sighed. "Jackson just stop. I felt it when you became alpha, Derek and I was confused. I didn't know what I was then. I didn't know that I had set myself to be so loyal to you if you ever became an alpha. Just my luck, of course, you became one. Fucking werewolves; I was so fiercely loyal and most of the time it was too hard to fight it. You never suspected a thing."

"Stiles-"

"No Derek. I was there even when your actual pack left you. When I wasn't pack. I lied to my dad, did research for you, got the shit beat out of me by Grandpa Crazypants, I saved you, I kept Cora safe, started training with Deaton. _I was there for you when they killed Boyd._ I'm the one who told you Lydia wasn't the Kanima, oh, and I was the one who saw right through Matt. You trusted me. So screw you Derek, I was pack," Stiles all but yelled.

"You were Scott's pack, you just happened to always be around," Derek stated quietly, not meeting Stiles' eyes.

"Oh, is that how that went?" Stiles asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Then why were you in the school that night? You think I didn't realize what was going to happen the moment I saw you? That part of you, the animal side, the alpha, knew what I was. You were going to get me to submit. If it weren't for lizard boy over here," muttered complaints were heard from Jackson, "I'd have submitted." Stiles' adam's apple bobbed.

"The fuck you talking about Stilinski?" Jackson asked angrily, jealously.

"You would?" Derek asked wide eyed and taking a step forward.

_"I would have,"_ Stiles emphasized, "that night, when you were the alpha. It's probably a good thing we were interrupted."

"Why?" Derek asked too quickly. Jackson smiled smugly.

Stiles closed his eyes and sighed. Whether Derek was an alpha or a beta, he was a very dominate wolf. He needed to be in charge, needed to be important, needed others to know that he was capable. Stiles hadn't noticed before. Stiles felt the pull; whatever bond that had begun to develop between spark-Stiles and alpha-Derek had carried over in someway to beta-Derek. Stiles was determined not to give into it. Derek wasn't an alpha anymore and the pull wasn't as strong as before, Stiles could say no.

"You gave it all up to heal your sister. I didn't expect it and my dad thought I was having some sort of attack, I was at the station with him. Everyone saw, an ambulance came and everything. Wasn't easy getting out of that one, Derek. It felt as if a three hundred pound weight was slammed down on my chest, I couldn't breathe. I thought I was dying. Now, imagine if I had submitted to you. Probably would be dead," Stiles explained, voice tight, while his trembling hand pushed at his hair. "And then you left, without telling anyone."

"I'm sorry. You're still hurt," Derek smirked. "Most often, submitted sparks and alphas end up together. Turned sparks, no matter the gender, can give their alpha werewolf children."

"I'm not sure why that makes you smile or why you're telling me that," Stiles breathed in, slightly spaced out. His mind was racing, Peter didn't just want the power Stiles would give him, he also wanted the family.

"Because sparks are a rare thing, but even more rare is the bond between an alpha and a spark that can get along and function well without that submission. A bond they feel even when the alpha may not be the alpha. It's not a thing that should be missed out on," Derek stated matter-of-factly. "I can't believe I didn't realize then, that you are the spark. I can't let you go again Stiles. It's too hard."

Stiles' heartbeat picked up and his lips parted. He knew what he wanted to say, but he was afraid of what could come tumbling out instead.

"Get out," Jackson yelled, his eyes flashing at Derek. "You're overwhelming him, leave."

"Derek don't do this, I don't want to want you. It would never work," Stiles told him quietly.

"Don't be so sure. You trained my betas, behind my back," Stiles looked at him with wide eyes. "Yeah, I caught on. They listened to you. I should've been angry, but I wasn't. That got me thinking, and that's why I was in the school that night. I wanted you as my second. Like I've said, we make a great team," Derek smiled and his eyes seemed to twinkle.

Stiles didn't say anything, he watched Derek.

"I have things to do, but I'll be back later. We should probably talk," Derek put his hand on Stiles' shoulder.

"Okay," Stiles nodded, still a bit speechless.

_**TAMT**_

"Legends of sparks were big in my pack and when Stiles said he was one, I had to look into it more. The outcome wouldn't be good for Stiles, not with him. I had to send him to New York," Melissa explained carefully.

"You could have told me. I'm not really a fan of surprises, especially surprises that wake up in Jackson Whittemore's bed. Christ, Melissa, Jackson is lucky I'm not an alpha anymore. You should have told me Stiles was coming," Derek spoke angrily into his phone.

"Now why would I do that? You two found each other just fine. It was bound to happen, you didn't need my help. Talia always said that you'd end up with someone the exact opposite as you, that's going to be Stiles. How is he? Peter really had him shaken up," Melissa explained.

"Peter? What the hell does he have to do with this?" He yelled. "Wait. You spent time with my mom?"

"He's the alpha. That power didn't just go away, because you gave it up. It doesn't work like that. Scott's a True Alpha, he didn't need that power. So," she trailed off, completely ignoring Derek's second question.

"So he is? Dad thought he would be; _grandpa_ must be proud," Derek said grandpa as if it were unsavory.

He had gotten distracted easily, but he couldn't help it, he didn't know much about his dad's side of the family. Aunt Melissa kept her distance, as one of the few human from a prominent werewolf family, she had bad memories of werewolves.

"I haven't exactly told my father about it yet, he's still angry that Matt gave up his birthright so he could be with your mom. I've been told he has said Matt deserved to die in the fire," Melissa sighed. "I take it Stiles hasn't said anything about what happened with Peter?"

Derek took his cue from the obvious subject change and let it go. "No, didn't even get to it yet, but whatever happened wasn't good. He had some claw marks down his chest, few days old and starting to heal, but they were pretty bad. I never should of left in the first place, he doesn't trust me now and I'm going to earn it back. Nobody's going to hurt him again, and he'll never have to submit if he doesn't want to. Melissa, tell Peter the truth, that Stiles is alive and in New York. I think I have a plan," Derek explained almost eagerly.

"Derek is that a good idea?" Melissa asked skeptically.

"I don't know, but it's the only way for Stiles to be safe," Derek paused. "Dad missed you. He said that's why mom and him settled down in Beacon Hills, he heard it's where you went and he wanted to be close at least in distance to you. He talked every day about his little sister 'Lissa, it was sickening," Derek chuckled fondly at the memory.

"Thank you," Melissa's voice cracked. "If you hurt Stiles I'm going to kick your ass Derek, nephew or not. I'm serious," Derek could hear the smile in her voice.

"I'm not going to hurt him, I just want to protect him. Like I should have from the start."

* * *

**I apologize, I apologize! My laptop took a crap and it took awhile to replace it. I am very easily distracted and kind of lazy, not a good combo. I started another story, this one is actually Stackson. I got caught up in it. Maybe I'll post it. I loved all the outpour of Stackson I got. I'm rooting for them, but apparently my subconscious likes Sterek. Oh, and this isn't going to be a love triangle or whatever. I'm not good at writing them. I'll have that figured within the next chapter hopefully. So who's scared for the rest of 3b? I am!**


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